For a Star Constable
by Philip Glenister tomboy
Summary: 19 year old Police Constable Gene Hunt is desperate to show the older lads of CID that he can be just as good as they are, but right now in 1982, the others see him as just a cocky teenager in uniform until a nearly thirty year old 1953 cold murder case crops up.
1. Chapter 1

**This is about Gene Hunt's first years in the police force as a teenager in the 1980s, the cases that gets him promoted into CID are the 30th anniversary of a 1953 murder of a Lancashire Constabulary constable on Queen Elizabeth II's Coronation Day and various others. The older CID lads don't like PC Gene Hunt and call him a div feeling threatened by the new gorgeously blue eyed, tall kid on the block.**

**In the chapters set in the 21st Century, DCI Gene Hunt mentors a very young Chris Skelton and teaches him how to be the best copper; he recalls being in his shoes back in the Eighties.**

**Chapter #1: **_The Scene of the Crime **(Set in 1982)**_

* * *

The young policeman aged 19 in 1982 walks slowly along the streets of the Bolton suburb. His blue eyes carefully scrutinize every doorway, every passerby, every corner barely illuminated by the dim moonlight on a starless night. It pulls a cold wind, and it's cold, too cold for a late spring evening: it squeezes hard in its big uniform, too big for a kid all skin and bones like him. The faint glow of a lamp makes the shining metal of the identification number shine brightly on the shoulders of his jacket: 6620. These four figures represent for him the beginning of a new life, a better future in which he can definitively leave behind all the violence and suffering of his childhood and find a way to fix everything with his mother and Stu. He wants to make a difference, try to make the world a better place and he is sure he can do great things: he will show that drunkard of his father to be a better man than he is.

Gene was pouting, which wasn't out of place for him, responding childishly to daily inconveniences while constantly denying that he was doing so. Only usually, he was merely acting like a teenage boy when he was older as opposed to, well, being like one as he is now in the year 1982 at his tender 19 years old with a spray of acne on his cheeks.

"I am not waltzing into CID like this! They'd have me fetching tea and biscuits!" moaned PC Gene Hunt wearing his uniform, Motorola walkie talkie and chequered London Metropolitan Police hat replying to his colleague DS Harry Woolf "Look, Genie you're being stubborn, go into CID and show the plain clothed officers what you're made of." Gene's policing father figure was sat at an early IBM Personal Computer unit shifting the files to be computerised for their new database system that would be the modern version of the archive den in the basement. "And the others saw you like this before, they'll recognise you."

He is dating his first girlfriend Scarlett Lindsey Reid who is aged around 23 or 24 years old over a four course meal of starters, mains, puddings and a cheeseboard "You were right, I don't date boys who still have curfews." when she leaves Luigi's Italian restaurant with her white high heels leaving Gene to sulk "Don't be mean Guv, I'm only marrying you this year!" the soon to be Mrs. Hunt carelessly calls her younger fiancée by his future title, one he wouldn't have until 15 years later in 1997.

"I _really_ do not want to talk to anyone, Scarlett love." Gene could be hideously stubborn once he'd gotten an idea in his head.

He smiled at her, a small and wistful one that she had seen on his face before, always looking impossibly youthful and sweet, at odds with the image of her future ex husband she would see years later. His older self from the 21st Century would be Guv of CID, have a crush on Alex Price after divorcing Peter Drake and drive that executive Ford saloon like he owns the streets.

* * *

Police Constable Gene Hunt must contend with the curiosity of the older plain clothed officers in CID "Anyone says a word about my very young age, I will demote them, and they will spend the rest of their working life scrubbing sick out of Custody cells!" images of teen Gene bursting into a department full of unknowing, unsuspecting people who had worked in CID for decades sitting around the office smoking doing nothing but throwing screwed up papers into the bins like balls instead of working at their assigned cases in front of their electric word processors. God forbid that Gene Hunt wouldn't be able to handle the situation maturely, or with any subtlety.

Gene had been willing to display emotions resembling vulnerability while they had been alone in the office with his mentor DS Harry Woolf; he had been solving cases for just as long, taking down police corruption together - the boy Constable with his grown up Guv'nor.

Gene at just 19 years old was known to treat CID like his personal copper's playground, he had insisted on driving the Quattro here, the car which every single officer this side of the Thames knew belonged to PC Hunt; a older teenager who had only been driving for two years after passing his driving test upon getting his license; driving that car was a disaster waiting to happen some of the older lads had pointed out, the arguments falling on deaf ears.

Fortunately, he hadn't been pulled over on the way, though this was in spite of his usual driving methods without yet any advanced driving training from Traffic, rather than any consideration on his part.

Their silences continued to reign over the office. The stunned face of his much older colleagues met young Gene's challenging glare as he took his sunglasses off. In fact, they all looked as though they had a thousand thoughts each they wanted to verbalise, held back by their shock and the force of Gene's glare.

DI Caroline Price froze, shifting her eyes to watch Gene's reaction. She expected yelling or possibly punching if she didn't intervene and yet, he didn't get visibly mad at Ray for the question, despite his earlier insistence.

* * *

It was nearly the 30th anniversary of that murder of a Lancashire Constabulary police constable in 1953 lying around in archives still unsolved; but CID are insistent on getting justice for the police officers from this time who are still alive. The murder took place on Queen Elizabeth II's Coronation and when Everest was also conquered inside a derelict farmhouse.

"PC Haywood died in 53." Gene said and then paused, looking at his future colleague's mother intently before scoffing. "Haywood was born in… 1934, been made a PC when he was still stationed in Lancashire Constabulary after his National Service."

Gene remembered the first day his dad Stephen Hunt made DCI, when he was aged just four or five "When my dad made DCI that's when I wanted to grow up being a copper, it's when he started drinking and beating my mam; me little bro Stu was just born too, I reckon. That was 67, 68 maybe?" young PC Gene Hunt and his inhuman stubbornness would have ranked high on the list.

'POLICE OFFICER BODY FOUND' The newspaper headline read. The simple silence accompanying in the office was deafening now, leaving him with only the footage of that hill, that farmhouse, and scarecrow and that grave where the CID lads had been not too long ago.

"_The body was found by a group of teenagers over the weekend. Greater Manchester Police have stated that the land has been long out of use and the body was wearing a police uniform prompting investigation into-_" They listened to the newscaster explaining, although very little was known yet.

"Dead copper. Reckon that's the case that's gonna help us figure out why the murder hasn't been solved for years." Ray asked.

"Looks like they've been there ages though." Shaz replied "Besides, we're the Met we can't just demand that they give us their case without any proof of something going on here. It's not right."

"This is an almost 30 year old case. We have to do… something." said PC Gene Hunt replying, quieter and duller for his very young age.

"You think it's related to the bloke who did his copper brother in?" asked DI Caroline Price.

Gene replied, steadier this time, looking only slightly nauseous "My parents are the ones who remember the murder, as they were courting each other then and my mam looked stunning in her Coronation best, when she showed me her photo album as a kid when I asked what were the post war olden days like?"

"The copper's remains are there, have been for decades." Sharon Grainger replied gently, trying to spare Gene from having to answer too many difficult questions on his very first cold case for someone who had only just started his policing career.

"I have always been told I was a bony little prick as a kid." Gene replied remembering his DCI dad comparing him to popular glam rock singer David Bowie in the 1970s as a little boy who was gorgeous and beautifully made with those blue eyes, fair skin and blonde hair that would eventually turn brunette.

"Like, if someone ran a check of dentals of DNA against it, the samples match?" asked DC Marshall Skelton still trying to work through the nearly 30 year old case.

"I imagine so, but they won't have the dead copper's dental records." said PC Gene Hunt who wanted to prove he was just as good as his more experienced and mature colleagues, despite being in uniform and baby faced. "So it's really not a problem. Fingerprints and DNA are going to be unavailable to the Forensics team too, there's really not much that could link the brothers as DNA profiling wasn't invented then in 1953."

* * *

"You can't really be suggesting we _steal_ the body from Forensics that is currently evidence in an ongoing investigation? Surely, I don't have to remind you about that thing we work to uphold, you know, the law?" said DS Harry Woolf warning Gene that his ideas were considered too new for the 1980s and he was seeming more like his normal, cocky self by the minute. Woolf only wished it wasn't happening at the expense of his protégé's rational decision making. The forensics people have found an outfit in question was a long-decommissioned police uniform. He did despise being seen as a 'skinny little kid' by others.

"Have you considered that perhaps we're supposed to help the investigation? Discovering and arresting the killer may be the exact sort of justice this case from 1953 finally needs." the exact moment Gene's 'gut instinct' kicked in to throw some rules of his Police Cadets training out of the window.

"I say we look for unsolved cases of London officers killed in a similar manner near the time, we can try to use that as a link to get access to their investigation and take it from there." replied PC Gene Hunt starting to get to grips with the unwritten rules of policing.

"Fine. We'll try it your way first Gene lad, but if they don't let us onboard or anything funny starts, we do it my way." Woolf chimed in.

"'Your usual Police Constable uniform won't fit! You want to avoid drawing attention to us, you'll look cool and you'll suck it up wearing these white jeans." said DI Caroline Price fussing over 19 year old PC Gene Hunt like an overbearing mother getting him to look smart in his cute denim jacket and Addias striped trainers with a Dennis the Menace t-shirt underneath his jacket.

"I'm not wearing any white jeans for this case!" whined PC Gene Hunt with his high pitched older teenage boy voice shaking his mullet hairstyle back in place "And I'm not going to a disco today!"

One wardrobe change (and some_ mild_ coercion of a DC Jones for his police badge) later and they were ready to go.

"You know they won't believe you will be a DCI as young as you look right now. Honestly, DC may be pushing it." That drew a laugh out of Shaz, and even he seemed to smile a fraction, despite having a tantrum over the undercover assignment.

"Let's fire up the Quattro!" screeched 19 year old Police Constable Gene Hunt leading the much older CID unit out through the double doors into the Fenchurch East police station car park kicking his trendy trainers to his posh car.

A cold case of a nameless, dead constable, only unusual to the GMP because of the Met's and PC Gene Hunt's unexplained interest in it.

* * *

Harry Woolf as the Police Constable's mentor could tell that Gene loathed every minute of his first cold case. PC Gene Hunt just so happened to be joining the case and the CID department's morbid curiosity followed them around no matter where they went.

"I've been looking hours for you! First things first, I saw the Quattro outside; give me your keys, you're in no condition to drive and you really can't afford to get pulled over without your police warrant." yelled DC Sharon Grainger who is closer to Gene's age; but nagged him like an old dear even though she was only about twenty herself.

He had to look up through his eyelashes to level her with his best scowl and pout combo, which looked both more petulant and attempted sultry than she believed he'd intended. She held his stare and eventually he handed the keys over in silence.

"DCI Rourke called; we can talk to the forensics team tomorrow, and they're keeping the suspect in longer. They haven't gotten anything from him yet but they're willing to let us question him in the morning. Maybe they think the resemblance might spook him into talking." said PC Gene Hunt needing to sober up from his disgraceful nightclubbing antics to the tunes of Duran Duran, OMD, Boy George and Wham! Honestly it was classic Gene Hunt to immediately supress his issues and feelings any time he thought there might be a damsel to help or a police woman of similar age he had a crush on.

"The murderous, tosser thug has a family!" DI Price interjected "A wife and son waiting for him when this poor copper left the station and it looks like he spent the rest of his all cushy and domestic."

Gene Hunt's a scared teenager, a boy who had been closer to her little Alex's age than her own. And now he had to face a man of 50 odd year old as his first cold case suspect in his start as a uniformed Police Constable investigating a nearly 30 year old murder to get a promotion to CID hopefully.

"What does it matter now? This suspect's best years are behind him and I'm just a spotty, lanky kid in uniform."

"Yeah, no, you're in no state to try and make decisions right now, PC Hunt. I think we need to get you to bed, let you sleep this off."

Of course, bundling a very drunk and naughty Gene into the Quattro, hotel room and finally hotel bed was a battle in itself. She drew the line at helping him get ready for bed however, he wasn't that drunk, and besides, like he said, she wasn't his mother.

Gene at this moment in time is just a vulnerable troubled teenager who had a tough start, he treats the CID offices like a game to his idea of what adult police life would be like when he was older.

When a bit more mature in the latter part of the 1990s and older in the 21st Century, Gene certainly _acted_ like a teenage boy over some things, like girls and interpersonal conflict resolution.

Part of her thought that he wouldn't answer, or that he had left without her; but in spite of her expectations she heard the click of the door unlocking followed by the sight of her grumpy, slightly hungover looking PC colleague facing her.

Bickering accompanied them all the way to breakfast, interspersed with hushed whispers about how they were going to 'nick the bastard' suspect.


	2. Chapter 2

**19 year old PC Gene Hunt is busy interviewing the 50 odd year old male suspect with DI Caroline Price. He doesn't know the names of the ex police officers whom knew the murdered young plod back in 1953 as Gene wasn't even born then. The young police constable finds out that the brother related to the dead policeman had been involved in various crimes since for decades. It is now the 1980s and young Gene begins to discover things about CID, he never thought he would; does the skinny young PC heed the advice of keeping his head down?**

**Chapter #2: **_Eyes Completely Open to CID_

* * *

"You've got _nuffin'_, posh tart copper." The words were spat rather than spoken, spittle collecting in the corners of the man's mouth. Caroline Price sat back in her seat to avoid flying saliva and crossed her arms. Beside her, Liam Clarke opened the manila case file they'd brought in and started laying photographs out on the table in front of their suspect, Haywood senior who was three years older than his brother who'd had been dead for nearly thirty years since 1953.

"These are the owners of the shop your ex police friend turned over last night," Liam Clark said evenly. The photographs were horrific to say the least. The owners, a couple in their mid-thirties, had been beaten to within an inch of their lives. "And this," Liam said, producing another photo, "is their son. He was sleeping upstairs, heard the attack, came down and ran into someone." The boy had been hit hard enough to send him flying across the shop and through the broken window.

"He's eight years old." Caroline said "We know you were there, Robert."

"So some kid got in the way and got hurt," the man said, leaning back in his chair. "Not my problem, is it, darlin'?"

Suddenly the door to the interview room was thrown open hard enough that it hit the wall. The CID officers turned in her seat to see Gene stalk into the room and slam the door behind himself. He was still wearing his uniform and leather driving gloves, obviously having come straight from the hospital.

"For the benefit of the tape, PC Gene Hunt has entered –" Liam Clarke began.

Gene cut him off. "Interview suspended at –" he looked at his older female colleague who would eventually retrain to be a lawyer instead with Evan White.

"Oh, 9:37," she supplied in return.

Gene nodded, starts to handle the situation immaturely and shoved the tape recorder off the table on purpose, not watching as it hit the opposite wall and smashed.

"Constable Hunt!" Caroline and Liam exclaimed at the same time, rising out of their chairs.

"Haywood, you piece of shit, you're gonna tell me exactly where your partner is or I'm gonna see to it you don't walk out of this station on your own two legs!" he yelled in his boyish voice treating the suspect like a football instead.

"Police brutality, young Mr Hunt!" Robert Haywood panicked. "I never touched the kid!"

"Not at all, sunshine. Lots of stairs in this nick. You might 'ave a nasty fall like Mario," Gene said "Or end up tangled in a goal post."

"I, on the other 'and, am cursed with a very good memory for faces even though I am a teenage police constable. Despite the fact that a petty little scrote like you is beneath me, I remember yours as a kid. Little visit to Manchester about five years ago ring a bell? Course, you were just a shoplifter then." Gene said, jerking a gloved thumb over his shoulder at Liam and Caroline before Gene could target the scruffy football at the suspect.

Gene demanded, ignoring his superiors "Come on, we both know you're not the brains of the operation!"

Gene kicked the football into the hallway anyway and turned to Liam. "Clarke, get this snivelling toe-rag down to the cells."

"What the hell was that?" Mrs Price demanded. He pushed past her and she followed him into the corridor.

He rounded a corner she caught up with him, grabbing his arm and stopping him in his tracks. "Gene, talk to me." He pulled his arm out of her grip and leaned against the wall, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Charlie Benson and 'is missus're still in intensive care."

"And David?"

* * *

"In a coma. Lost an eye when 'e went through the glass and damaged his spine. They don't think he'll walk ever again."

"Oh, god."

"Uniform pulled the pair of 'em in when me dad was still DCI in Manchester. Carson bit one of a female officer's fingers off, then stabbed 'er in the face with 'er own car keys."

At seven PM most of CID were sitting at their desks, sending occasional glances at Gene's office. The baby faced Police Constable himself had been closeted away with the blinds drawn for the best part of the afternoon talking tactics with the Guv. Even Harper had only dared interrupt once to offer him tea.


	3. Chapter 3

**19 year old PC Gene Hunt and DI Caroline Drake drive to Manchester for a case, but the teenage police constable takes it as a stag night weekender with a woman clearly old enough to be his own parent and nicknames Alex Price's mother as Carrie. The Greater Manchester Police CID hasn't changed a bit since he was a little boy in the 1970s and it takes Gene back to his younger childhood.**

* * *

**Chapter #3: **_The Long Good Manchester._

"At least wi' you Carrie, we can save a bit o' cash on the hotel bill." replied 19 year old PC Gene Hunt cheekily getting his future colleague's mother loaded up on red wine at Franco's restaurant, he said, glancing over at the rest of CID, gathered around the next table and indulging in a slurred drinking song.

Caroline Price supplied. "We're going up there for a case, not a dirty stag weekend and I'm old enough to be your mother Gene." She rose, pulling her jacket from the back of the chair. "You coming up?"

"Just don't come cryin' to me when you get lonely without the young PC Gene Genie to keep you warm." he cheekily answered back wearing black pixie boots, a baseball jacket, blue collared t-shirt and chequered jeans.

"What?" she asked sleepily, opening her eyes to see Gene giving her an unreadable look. She glanced at the clock. Two AM. Can't have been asleep that long, she mused. He smirked at that, his body relaxing somewhat. "What time do we leave?" It's what makes him a good copper, a good man for someone so young.

"Simon should be at the station at about seven, then we'll pack up the Ford Granada Mk2 Ghia X and be on our way."

The corridor wasn't one she recognised. It was untidy, grey smoke curling towards the ceiling. It hadn't changed since Gene Hunt was a little boy in the 1970s. She could see Gene's father with a former Detective Inspector of his, a young boy of about 9 or 10 where little Gene looked blank.

She slapped him lightly on the chest and he chuckled quietly. Then he scooted down the bed, pulling her with him. "Need more sleep if I'm gonna drive to Manchester tomorrow, Carrie." He looked thoughtful for a moment before a wicked gleam grew in his eyes.

* * *

"Carrie! Wake up. We're 'ere." nagged the 19 year old police officer boy in the driving seat of a brand new Ford Granada Mk2 Ghia X with synthetic music blaring on it's Ford cassette player with graphic equaliser. Their early morning activities had meant she wasn't very well-rested and a teenage boy like Gene drove her to snap a couple of times. Gene had been ridiculously chipper when they awoke in stark constrast to his usual typical teenage attitude when it came to early morning wake up calls. Gene had pulled the square shaped futuristic Ford Granada to a stop in the car park of a large, unattractive cement building.

"Worse than ours," Simon said from the backseat.

Gene said, affronted. "Do you mind? This is my dad's station, I know it ain't changed since I was little in the 70s; but keep that remark a secret. I was practically brought up in this CID department!"

"Sorry, PC Guv," Simon said, sharing an amused glance with DI Caroline Price.

"Right," Gene said, pulling his leather gloves off. "We'll nip in, announce our presence and see what they've got on our friend Carson."

They climbed out of the car and headed up the steep steps that led to the station. Gene's longer legs carried him up the stairs ahead of them and he paused at the top, looking down impatiently.

Gene looked… different. a little boy, a blue parka coat, denim shorts, scuffed shoes, still had his impressive mullet hairstyle and he's holding a toy bronze Ford Cortina Mk3; he's about nine or ten years old.

"You coming in or taking in the ambience?" Gene demanded.

* * *

As they entered CID, Simon let out a low whistle. Blue smoke hung in the air and several of the desks had overflowing ashtrays. The posters on the walls looked like they hadn't been changed in ten to fifteen years.

Gene grunted but didn't speak. "Empty though," Simon said.

"Lunchtime," Caroline supplied, watching Gene walk over to a desk near the cubicle that occupied the centre of the incident room. He ran his fingers over it, tapping them lightly on a stack of files at the edge of the desk as if he was a little child in the Guv's office again playing at being a plain clothed policeman.

"You were right, Carrie. Nothin's changed." He nodded at a couple of desks on the other side of the aisle.

He recalled a couple of his dad Stephen Hunt's colleagues walking around taking a look.

"That your father's office?" she asked.

"Hmm," he grunted, glancing up at the old fashioned partition office in front of them. "Fancy a butchers?"

Caroline Price sat on the edge of the desk, surveying the room around her and trying to imagine it with Gene's father's unmistakable stamp on it. "It's bigger than your office," she observed.

Gene was sitting in the desk chair with his feet up on the desk, legs crossed at the ankle, looking for all the world as though this was still his dad's office. He turned a page in the newspaper he'd picked up. "Just more space for paperwork, Carrie."

* * *

"You know I've often wondered what it would have been like if I'd come here," she said. "To Manchester in the 70s, instead of London in the 80s." wondering what Gene's childhood was like then and if she came as a woman police officer in his dad's domain. Instead, the older teenager merely continued leafing through the paper.

"Can't say as you would've liked it, Carrie. You'd never've been a DI for a start. And before Sam, my old man wasn't exactly squeaky clean - ' she snorted derisively at the idea of Hunt senior ever being squeaky clean and he levelled his gaze at her. "Besides, me dad was a married man at the time."

Caroline was stalled by the doors to the office opening and admitting a man sporting the most ridiculous moustache she'd seen since Ray's one.

"Well, make yerself at home, why don't you, young Gene?"

Gene didn't move, merely glanced up at the man before returning to his paper. "Wonderin' when you were goin' ter show up. Carrie, this is DCI Gary West of the Greater Manchester Police. Gaz, this is my DI."

"Charmed, I _am_ sure."

Ray Carling had moved back to Manchester, with a transfer back to Stopford House police station after he disliked Gene's way of policing and had gotten jealous of a 19 year old new police boy on the block.

Gene folded up his paper and threw it onto the desk. "Married to the Force and Courts that one. Feminist pair of stockings, an' all and she's the mother of me future colleague."

"I've got a DS knockin' about somewhere, maybe you can try your luck with 'im." said Gareth West treating young PC Gene Hunt as a cocky new kid as per usual.

"Ray Carling? No ta." replied Gene not taking his feet off the desk.

* * *

**What will be the first case in association with London's Metropolitan Police? Oooooh, let's find out in the next chapter!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: **_Greater Manchester Police Stuck in a Seventies Timewarp_

**Greater Manchester Police hasn't changed since PC Gene Hunt was a little boy in the 1970s, he finds the new DCI is just like his father and treats him like a useless nancy boy. It reminds the fledgling young police officer of the bad times his father's colleagues called him horrible names in the old A Division block or used to ground him in Stephen Hunt's Ford Cortina Mk3 GXL. It isn't until PC Gene Hunt helps on a missing child case that he stands up to them; even though he was only 12 at the time and little Sandra was 4 in 1975.**

* * *

"Feet off my desk, Gene." ordered DCI Gareth West clicking his fingers at the very young police officer in a disdainful mood "Well, you buggered off to London and took the bloody dartboard with you!" Gene swung his legs off the desk and stood. "We're 'ere to bring our bastard in. Nothin' else."

"Come on, Gene," Gaz said, watching as Gene moved around the desk. "I'm only asking you to take a look. You and your fancy Met detectives, you're only 19 years old for God's sake!" he yelled furiously at Gene until he coughs unpleasantly.

"She's twelve years old, Gene. And it's her birthday tomorrow. Name's Sandra Larkin." Gene stopped in his tracks, he had been twelve when four year old Sandra used to play with him lots, despite the eight year age gap between the two children "Runaway? I remember Sandra as that cute little four year old girl, who used to hang out with twelve year old me and I would bring her my toy Ford Cortina to play, getting one on me old man or some 10p mix sweets..." remembering his lovely memories playing out with Sandra Larkin.

"Kidnappin'. Parents are worried sick." said DCI Gareth West leading a now 19 year old PC Gene Hunt in the old office for the case notes.

"When did she disappear?" asked DI Caroline Price

"Last night. We're goin' to interview the parents now."

"We'll come along," Gene said "Shame, she was a good little lass and give you a chance to use your psychobollocks, Pricey."

DI Caroline Price smirked. "Yes, Guv."

Gene turned back to DCI West. "Let me 'ave a word with my DS from CID. Someone should be lookin' for our man."

"Tell him to take a couple of mine." Gene nodded and the three of them headed out of the office. As they reached the double doors leading onto the corridor, West turned to Gene. "So, what are you driving these days?" The DCI doesn't bother to know that Gene had only been driving for two years upon passing his test.

"I drive a Ford Granada Mk2 Ghia X, brand new with the 1982 registration and it's in champagne gold." replied PC Gene Hunt unsure as although he drives different cars around London's Metropolitan Police in and out of uniform, surely questions would be asked as to how a 19 year old boy got his hands on a new Ford executive saloon with a 5 speed manual gearbox.

"Wow, I can see you're a flash one for a copper so young." DCI West replied snippily about Gene's car buying habits.

* * *

"Mrs Larkin, this is my young colleague from the London Metropolitan Police, PC Gene Hunt. Detective Chief Inspector Gareth West -"

"I know who you are, PC Hunt; you were a 12 year old little boy when I last saw you." the woman said slowly, speaking directly to Gene.

Gene had been seated on the chintziest sofa Caroline had ever seen. The woman sitting opposite them – Kitty Larkin, the missing girl's mother – was attractive, in a tired way. She looked distraught, but also resigned, which Caroline wouldn't have.

"My sister was murdered," Kitty continued. "In '75. Your father led the investigation. You weren't living in London then."

"Transferred down there a few months ago, after leaving home."

"Your mentor was nice, polite, too. For a copper." remembering the great DS Harry Woolf who transferred to meet his young apprentice from Manchester.

* * *

**What happens when Gene's childhood neighbour makes in an appearence? She even calls Gene by his full formal name for some odd generational reason.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter #5: **_Gene's Childhood Memories from 1975_

**Gene Hunt's childhood neighbour makes in her first appearance, she grew up around World War II in the 1930s-1940s and has a habit of calling the 19 year old police officer by his full formal name as it's partly a generational thing. This case also dates the year Gene was twelve, where he remembers Sandra's mother from.**

* * *

"That's right, love," Gene said softly.

Gene nodded as an older woman entered the room, carrying a tea tray.

"This is my neighbour, Mabel Stubbs." All of Gene's memories of Mabel from 1963 onwards, since the day he was born came flooding through in flashbacks.

Gene looked up and Mrs Stubbs blinked in surprise. "Eugene Hunt, as I live and breathe. Thought you'd buggered off from home to that London."

"Mabel!" Mrs Larkin said, scandalised.

"Sorry, love," Mrs Stubbs said soothingly, patting the younger woman's shoulder. She looked back at Gene. "Pop round and see me before you go, Eugene. I'm at number 29."

"Yes, Mrs Stubbs," Gene said, shifting slightly and remembering to call his elders by their surname. He returns his attention to the missing child case.

"Kitty, this is my colleague from the Met's CID, DI Caroline Price. Can you tell us about the night Sandra disappeared?"

"She was taken. Sandra would never wander off. She was a good girl, Master Hunt. You remember? She were four when you were 'ere last."

"I remember, Kitty." he said to Sandra's mother, she is still quite a looker.

"She took a shine to your toy Cortina, comics and sweets. To you too, come to that, you were her first playmate." Caroline poured Kitty Larkin a cup of tea and handed it to her. "It was my fault. The night Sandra was taken I was out. I'd left her dad to take care of her. He's not very good at staying awake.

DI Caroline Price asked Kitty Larkin whether there was anything suspicious "Did you hear any break-in?" Gene, who shook his head minutely.

Kitty shared a look with Gene. "He's a heavy sleeper," she said flatly.

"Came 'ome about elevenish, and there was all glass on the step. The door was unlocked." Kitty stared at the teacup in her hands, turning it slowly.

"Kitchen door," Gene said. "Go on, Kitty, love." he asked gently, when it became apparent the woman needed prompting.

"Went in to check on 'er and she wasn't there."

"Did she take anything with her?" asked Gene's female colleague who was 18 years his senior, DI Price asked.

"She didn't run away!" Kitty snapped, this much emotion seemed to break her and she burst into tears.

Gene leaned forwards and took her teacup from her, wrapping his long fingers around hers. "DI Price's just going to take a look at Sandra's room, love," he said, nodding at the woman just about old enough to be his mother.

"She didn't, Master Hunt!" Kitty sobbed as Caroline rose and headed towards the stairs.

* * *

**Gene helps his other childhood neighbour Kitty Larkin, who remembers him as a sweet but roguish 12 year old boy in 1975.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: **_Post Operation Countrymen and Roses_

**PC Gene Hunt is distracted by Sandra Larkin's bedroom and toys until DCI West gives him a crackly radio that last worked properly when it was brand new, he doesn't miss the rubbish and clunky 1970s technology of his earlier childhood.**

* * *

"I know, I know, I know." replied a comforting PC Gene Hunt who handled an emotional witness with maturity and consideration for his tender 19 years, he knew Kitty Larkin for years as she lives in the opposite house to Gene's mother and Mabel Stubbs. The young uniformed officer moved to the girl's dressing table, leafing through the homework he found there, playing with a Rubik's cube and the Grandstand Astro Wars mini arcade tabletop toy; but was interrupted by the door opening, admitting DCI West. The game bleeps and bloops until Gene loses his lives taking the score back to 0. "Ohhh! Now I'll never beat my high score!" moaned the young teenage police officer in return.

"Gene, radio for you." said DCI Gareth West who dared to interrupt his fun with Astro Wars and the Rubik's cube. PC Hunt turns the electronic game off instead grabbing an old PYE police radio, giving Greater Manchester Police's Guv the eye roll in return and becomes all grumpy with the much older CID officer; Hunt was being a typical teenage boy as usual.

Gene took it and thumbed the button. "PC Hunt."

_Simon_ Tremaine's voice came through the tinny speaker. "Thought you should know we've got a lead on Carson. Heading over there now."

"Right. Radio me if you pick him up."

The radio crackled, hissed and Gene moved it away from his ear. "Don't miss seeing these bloody old fashioned things," he muttered. "Say again, Simon?"

"I'm taking DC Harris." replied Simon Tremaine on the very dated police radio.

"Right. See you at the station. PC Hunt out." He looked at DI Caroline Price "Come on, then. Bring that," he nodded to the diary. "We'll 'ave a look later on."

"Are we going to see Mrs Stubbs?" Caroline asked the 19 year old uniformed police officer.

He glared at her. "I am."

"Oh no, I'm coming with you, _Eugene_, you'll introduce your CID officer politely and be a young gentleman for once."

* * *

**Caroline Price wants Gene to introduce his CID officer to Mabel Stubbs, how will he find having tea with one of the CID ladies, who is the mother of his future colleague Alex Price (later Drake)? **


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7:** _The Inside Scoop _

**PC Gene Hunt has tea with his other childhood neighbour Mabel Stubbs, who grew up in Manchester during World War II and the mother of his future colleague Alex. How will he manage to be a good young gentleman? And why does he meet Carson from his Dad's last run in with him?**

* * *

Gene led DI Caroline Price around to the back door of number twenty-nine and opened it without knocking. Mabel Stubbs was sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper. She jumped to her feet as they walked in and flicked the kettle on before coming to stand directly in front of Gene. Caroline stifled a smirk as she watched the tiny old woman bossing the young Guv around.

"Let me look at you," she said, pushing her glasses up her nose and placing her hands on Gene's shoulders and shoving them back before stepping away to look up at him appraisingly. "You've lost weight," she observed. "You're not eating properly, Eugene. Your hair needs cutting. And that tie..." she raised her hands to tighten the knot in his mullet but Gene brushed her off.

"Give over, a mullet's the latest hairstyle and make us a brew, Mabel."

"Oh, Eugene I remember when you had a class photo holding your football in 1974 at primary school aged 11, were a bonny little scamp then." The woman tutted good-naturedly and bustled over to the kettle.

True to her words, Gene had located the biscuit tin and was rooting through it. He looked up, half a garibaldi in his mouth, blue eyes set in an expression of innocence that anyone in London Metropolitan Police hadn't seen until they met PC Gene Hunt.

Mabel Stubbs turned and caught sight of Gene with his hand in the biscuit tin. "Offer one to yer CID lady friend, Eugene." She turned to Caroline. "You'll 'ave to introduce yourself, love. Your young uniformed colleague 'asn't got the manners of an alley cat." Caroline introduced herself by shaking the older woman's hand.

"She's m'DI," Gene said, his voice muffled by the garibaldi and pick 'n' mix sweets.

Mabel shot him a look but forbore to comment, instead turning and placing the teapot on the table and taking a seat. "Sit down, Eugene. Great lummox." She smiled brightly at Caroline Price as she poured her a cup. "I always said all that boy needed to do was walk into a room and it was full."

Gene sat down. "I take it you've known young PC Hunt a long time, Mrs Stubbs?" the CID lady asked returing her smile.

"_PC Hunt_," Mabel snorted. "Knew his mam. And call me Mabel," she added, slapping Gene's wrist as he tried to add a third sugar to his tea and snuck another penny sweet to his mouth.

He pouted. "I'm sayin' you're always the first one to know what's 'appenin' on your street. You've got more snouts than the entire GMP put together."

"Just my luck. I want tea with Denise's eldest and I get the bloody uniformed police officer instead," Mabel said, winking at the Met Police CID woman." she set up the tea table "you know about the 'usband?"

Gene nodded, but Caroline Price was confused "What about the husband?" she asked.

"Likes a drink," Gene supplied and interrupted.

Mabel nodded. "Right good fer nothin', 'e is. Always 'as been. The son, though…" shaking her head, she extracted a cigarette from the Superkings cigarette packet on the table and put it to her lips.

"Mikey," she confirmed. ''e was a promisin' lad. Time was 'is mam thought 'e'd go into the police. Especially after that business with her sister. Apparently he were right taken with Eugene on the school trip to Greater Manchester Police station, but sadly went in with the wrong crowd once he reached the big comprehensive school."

"How old is he?" Caroline Price asked, she imagined him to be the same age as Police Constable Gene Hunt as the boys were born in the same 1963 year.

"In what way?" hazarded Gene Hunt with a insight ahead of his 19 years of age. "Went off the rails about four years ago in 1978. Fell in wi' the wrong crowd." Mabel corrected, looked at Gene thoughtfully for a moment as she exhaled a stream of blue smoke. "Drugs," the older woman said. "Among other things. But drugs were the root of it."

Mabel nodded and stubbed out her cigarette. "You're thinkin' of your Stuart. But this was worse. The most your brother ever did when 'e were a kid was nick a couple of pound from your mam's housekeepin'."

"More'n just a couple of quid toward the drug dealing," Gene said darkly.

"Oh aye," she gave Gene a piercing look. "Although it always reappeared mysteriously."

Mabel Stubbs noted that Michael Larkin left at 10:00 PM a few months ago being kicked out by his mother Kitty, but he was here the night Sandra was kidnapped and it was half an hour after he went back in.

"But you can only see the front of the house from here…" Caroline Price said to Mabel's observation statement being taken and written down word for word.

* * *

"Could've sneaked 'er out the back door," Gene agreed. His Motorola radio squawked. "'scuse me," he said, rising from the table and exiting the kitchen, snagging a garibaldi and a Cadbury's _Wispa_ bar on the way out.

"Sorry about him," said the female Detective Inspector following the direction of Mabel's gaze.

The older woman smiled. "Got and opened them in special," she confided. "I know 'e likes 'em penny sweets, that new fangled Wispa bar and garibaldi biscuits."

"You know him well, don't you?" asked Caroline Price watching as Mabel poured another cup of tea for them both.

"Knew the whole family. Lived next door to 'em when 'e were a kid in the 1970s and since he was born in '63. Skinny little thing 'e was, too. Blond hair, blue eyes, right little cherub 'e looked, for all that 'e was a holy terror. Shot right up when 'e were thirteen in 1976. Denise swore he grew two foot overnight."

Caroline Price smiled, glancing out of the kitchen window at the pacing blond-haired, blue-eyed holy terror himself, even though she is just about old enough to be his mother.

"Bloody lucky e did have that growth spurt, mind. What with 'is dad bein' the way he was. Didn't help 'is brother though. Poor lad just wasn't strong enough. Not like Eugene. Proper idealist 'e was. Still is, deep down. But 'e couldn't help Stuie. Of course he did, love. Waifs and strays, that was our Eugene. Even when Stuie was nicking out of their mam's purse Eugene stood up fer 'im. That Sam Tyler aged four, nine year ago in '73 made Gene want to become a copper."

"No, but you 'ave got a selective memory," Gene said from the doorway, making his female CID colleague jump "You know I_ hate_ being called Eugene - too posh fer me. We better make a move, Carrie."

Mabel stood up and smiled at him. "Not sure I approve of that motor of yours for one so young."

"Shut up," he said cheekily and mildly, giving her a peck on the cheek. "Take you for a spin in it before we go back if you like."

* * *

Once they were back in the Ford Granada Mk2 Ghia X and speeding towards the station, teenage Gene decides to sing to Duran Duran's _The Reflex _loudly playing on the cassette player having a good time in his new car after some scrawny thief nicked the hot red Audi Quattro that he only had for a few months; young boys and brand new motors didn't make for a good combination in the rougher, poorer areas of London.

He shook his head taking the Manchester links seriously with tact and maturity "Simon's brought someone in. Old acquaintance of Carson's. I'm goin' to have a little chat with him, before wrapping up for the night."

"Of course! Do you want me to sit in?"

"I'll run the interview with Simon for now. You 'ave a look through the case file from my old man's last run in with him. See if you can spot anythin'."

He eyed her before continuing. "You and Mrs Stubbs seemed pretty cosy."

"Funny," Caroline Price smiling to herself. "She said the exact same thing about you being a little terror in primary school, your playmate Sam Tyler, he was like another little brother to you."

* * *

**The little links to 1970s Gene Hunt as a small child and why Michael Larkin went off the rails make this chapter really good, but dark at the same time.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: **_Not Old Enough to be a DCI_

**Several Greater Manchester Police CID lads mistake Gene Hunt for their Guv, stupidly not realising he isn't old enough to be a DCI and this causes problems when the young teenage Police Constable is trying to gain respect amongst his Dad's colleagues. The case about the Larkin family is one all too familiar to the 19 year old Gene Hunt.**

* * *

They pushed through the double doors to CID in unison, drawing interested glances from the squad now assembled there. Once their eyes had passed over her a few of them got to their feet, having spotted Gene. His hair was longer, blonder, falling over his forehead and almost into his eyes "Guv!" one of them idiotically said stupidly forgetting Gene's young age, stepping forward. Gene shook the proffered hand. "Freddie." He nodded to the group that was rapidly forming around him, blushing. "I'm only a Police Constable, yeah just a spotty lanky teenager in uniform..." trying to salvage the first misimpression that happened inside the smoke filled and old fashioned CID room.

DCI West exited his office clapping his hands. "All right you 'orrible lot, 'aven't you got work to do? Give PC Hunt some air." The crowd dispersed slightly, leaving Gene standing with his CID colleagues from London Metropolitan Police. He sees a familiar face as Stuart Hunt gets pulled in for another arrest. He is in the Custody suit in cell three awaiting one of the interview rooms. Greater Manchester Police had moved with the times since Gene was a child in the Seventies with just a Lost Property room to hold interviews in especially if suspects were mouthy.

When they strode into CID they found most of the officers there manfully engaged in a lively discussion around one of the desks.

_Stu? Wake up. It's Gene. _

_Genie? _

_'s right. I've come to take you in, Stuie. I've got to. _

_My brother the copper. _

_Oh, Stuie. Why'd you have to be 'ere? Why now? _

_Doesn' matter, Gene. Won't make it anywhere near your nick._

Gene said. "Like to think this station's moved with the times a little bit, Carrie."

"Your dad's former DI said Greater Manchester Police didn't have an interview room. That he used Lost Property or the canteen."

"Maybe when I was a little nipper." replied Police Constable Gene Hunt who remembered Greater Manchester Police as it was in the 1970s when he was a little boy "Right, let's get down to interview. It's Harry Carr, 'the Hand'" when it was predonomiently full of tough, ugly police officers that wouldn't look out of place in _The Sweeney._

"Actually, Gene," West said, stepping forward. "Both interview rooms are full, so it will be Lost Property."

Gene rolled his eyes as this reminded him of his violent father, when Hunt senior was a Detective Chief Inspector with his bronze Ford Cortina Mk3 GXL that could hold five members of the CID, back in the day. "Gaz, can you show DI Price 'ere to the records room? I want her to go over my dad's old Carson file."

"You'd think he'd never bloody left Manchester," DCI West said, smirking. He lit a cigarette.

"Psychologist and a DI. _Impressive_," West said, sounding like he meant it after Detective Inspector Caroline Price introduces herself to Stephen Hunt's CID team at Greater Manchester Police, Salford.

She rolled her eyes. "As I was saying, I think you're right. It's a different person."

He nodded. "We'll get Gaz's lot onto it when we get to the station." He moved to the bed and sat down, reaching for his socks.

"You're capable of some highly perceptive psychological insights when you want to be," Caroline observed, watching the young Police Constable.

16 year old Stuart Hunt is given masses of chores at home for selling drugs disguised as sweets, "Right. That's it. Mam said yer grounded for selling drugs disguised as sweets at school," meaning he was towering over his younger brother "No one to blame but yourself, Stuie." since Gene ensures his brother doesn't go in the wrong crowd again; Stu growled, dropping his face to Gene's neck.

Meanwhile at the station "You lot, your DCI in?" PC Gene Hunt requested one of the officers said. "His office," he corrected hurriedly.

DCI West smiled at him. "Right. S'pose we better get cracking. I'll round up the troops."

"Dad's an alkie," one of the officers volunteered.

"Mother works to top up the housekeeping," West said. "Brother's a druggie."

"Right, Kershaw and Hanworth," DCI West said, rising and turning to glare at the rest of the room. "I want you down at the school, question the boys this time." DC Kershaw and a young WDC stood and headed for the door.

Caroline recapped the marker she'd been using to write on the flipchart. "I'd like to borrow a car, please. I want to have another chat with Sandra's mother if possible."

* * *

"Struck a nerve with our young Eugene yesterday, I'll warrant. All that business about Mikey Larkin."

'That father of hers," Mabel said, shaking her head as she poured the tea. "I don't like to speak ill of folk but he's a bad apple. Doesn't give two figs about his wife or his kids. That's why their Mikey went to the bad. A boy needs a strong father figure if he's to make a go o' this life. Mikey didn't 'ave one."

* * *

**The Larkin case is one that makes an impression on a 19 year old Police Constable Gene Hunt, setting his style for crime fighting. **


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter #9:** _Neighbour to Neighbour_

**DI Caroline Price gets talking with Kitty Larkin updating her on Sandra's kidnapping. Mabel reveals her deceased husband used to be a mentor to Gene's father Stephen Hunt during Coronation Day in 1953 at Lancashire Constabulary. Could this missing link help with their cold case on a murdered Police Constable during '53?**

* * *

"I told PC Hunt and DCI West everything," Kitty said being handed a cup of tea, thanking one of the female police officers for making one.

"I'm a police psychologist and part of my job is to establish a profile that often helps us solve cases."

"Of the criminals you mean?"

"Not just criminals. Sometimes it can help to have an idea of the psychological makeup of the victim at the time."

"She didn't run away, DI Price."

"I know, but one of your neighbours said she saw your son Michael here, the night Sandra disappeared and I was wondering whether you knew she had been in contact with him recently."

"Mikey was here?" Caroline nodded, wondering why Mabel hadn't told her. "She was quieter," Kitty said thoughtfully. "Usually, she'd be talkin' nineteen to the dozen. To me at least."

Kitty smiled, her eyes taking on a faraway look. "She loves her brother. 's like he's her hero." Her smile faded. "Least he used to be." She took a sip of tea; Annie and Caroline waited for her to speak again. "You're wonderin' what her relationship's like with her father. DCI West spoke to 'im. Said he was asleep the night Sandra disappeared. Didn't hear a bloody thing."

"I'll let myself out the back door," said Caroline "You could come to the station if –"

"Thanks, Inspector, but I better get his tea ready."

* * *

Gene realised it hadn't even occurred to him to correct the woman, on his first visit to say it was DCI West's case; they were just helping out. DI Caroline Price was shaking her head to clear it, she headed down the alley behind the terraced houses and back onto the street. As she approached the frankly terrible pool car she'd been assigned, she heard someone call her name. Looking up, she saw Mabel Stubbs heading towards her, shopping bags in hand. "Hello again," she greeted, smiling. At Mabel's insistence, Caroline sat at the kitchen table and watched the older woman bustle around the kitchen, putting the shopping away and making tea.

"Because of his brother?" asked DI Price

Mabel nodded, drumming her fingers on the counter while she waited for the kettle to boil. "I didn't want to say owt but I want that little girl found as much as anyone else down this street. More than some," she added darkly.

"Like Gene's brother."

The older woman nodded. "I've often thought Eugene only turned out like he did because he had Stuart to fight for. Always looking after his brother 'e was. Hated to see 'im picked on. P'raps that's why 'e wanted to be a police officer," she mused.

She lit a cigarette and blew smoke towards the ceiling before continuing, "You know, before I married Mr Stubbs, my married name was Morrison."

"My Ronnie was in the force. Didn't have a particularly glittering career, mind. Died of a heart attack when he were thirty-eight. Never made it out of uniform. But he took Eugene's father under his wing when he first started. Looked after Stephen on his first week on the job."

* * *

Young PC Gene Hunt is tall, lanky and very cool; he found CID almost empty. He'd seen the Ford in the car park so he knew and Simon had returned, but there was no sign of the DI and the DCI in the incident room.

If this were Gene's office she'd have no problem just barging in as she always had done, but here she felt compelled to knock. To her surprise, West didn't call out for her to enter, instead, he elected to open the door, peering out at her with a bemused expression.

"Very polite of you to knock, DI Price."

"Yes, I thought you might not be used to that." she said, smiling brightly.

Gene's brash tone filled the room. He'd entered the office silently enough, but now she could sense him standing by the door.

"I won't ask what you were doin' alone with 'im in his office when you know what these northern coppers're like." He paused in the doorway, realising the room was probably just as his dad's former Detective Inspector had found it

Gene stalked around a shelving unit and approached the room's only other occupant, lounging in a chair as though he felt right at home.

"You've been giving us dodgy information, Harry." Gene said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. "You know that's not good for my temper."

"Not too worried about your temper, if I'm honest, young Master Hunt." Gene saw his body language was at odds with his words. He shifted in his chair, sitting up straighter as his mouth set in a line, his eyes flicking distrustfully.

"I think you do. You two used to pal around here quite a bit in the old days. I think he came up here to see you. His mother's dead, sister hasn't spoken to him in years . His missus'd shop 'im the minute she clapped eyes on him."

Caroline opened her mouth to speak but Gene got there first. "Davy Benson is the son of the owners of the shop, your ex copper mate turned over."

"I told you, yesterday, I 'aven't seen him and I don't know!" yelled Harry Carson for the benefit of the tape recording.

"He lost an eye," DI Price said, watching as Harry turned an even deeper shade of red. "And he might never walk again. He's eight."

Gene didn't answer immediately, merely turned and headed towards the station entrance, pausing by the front desk. As they started to walk down the stairs to the front desk he said, "You were right, Harry's 'opeless with women. But he's got a little brother. 'is mam don't let him see him o'course. Terrifying woman," he added, in the tone of someone who had met her. "But Harry doesn't like to hear about bad things happenin' to kids. He really doesn't like it."

The desk sergeant slid the paperwork across the desk. Gene signed it and shoved it back across the desk.

"I've got him lying in wait," Gene said. He approached the desk. "Right. Cell three, Harry Carr. Let 'im out."

* * *

Gene glanced over at his older female CID officer. "Are you eating that bloody pie or giving it a post-mortem?"

"Never mind. You can tell me back at the station."

"Get your useless arse back here in ten minutes or hand your bloody warrant card in." as Gene's radio crackled from his pocket.

"No, thanks," Caroline Price wasn't feeling up nor hungry for a pie at lunch in the Railway Arms pub.

"Tut-tut. Waste not, want not,' he said, snagging the curry pie as he headed for the door.

* * *

**The more Gene visits Manchester, he learns about his younger childhood in the 1970s when he used to be taken into 'A' Division as a little boy with his father DCI Stephen Hunt. **


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: **_Conflicts Between Young Coppers_

**PC Gene Hunt is not impressed with his contemporary peers, when he finds out what they've been up to with DCI Gareth West in Greater Manchester Police, letting a potential suspect be bribed by Greater Manchester Police 'A' Division officers in order to escape his arrest warrant.**

* * *

Gene stormed into Greater Manchester Police CID, having finished his stolen curry pie en route to the station and set his features in a scowl. Gene's more experienced and older London Metropolitan Police CID colleagues were impressed at the speed of the change that came over him as he stalked through the smoky station. He takes over the DCI's partition office. The coppers scattered around CID knew it too, could see the threat written in every line of Gene's body. "DC Tremaine," Gene snapped. "A word please."

Gene went into Gary West's office. The DCI had obviously gone out to lunch and Gene perched on the edge of his desk, crossing his legs and folding his arms. "He met that bloke to throw you off the scent. Now I want you to get out there and bloody find 'im. Look all night if you 'ave to. I don't want to hear a word from you until you're lookin' at the back of his head." Gene turned away from Simon, effectively dismissing him.

"DC Cooper is not a member of my team. And neither will you be at this rate."

"I radioed DCI West and he gave us the go-ahead." Simon said, dropping his head in embarrassment.

Gene spun again, leather jacket whirling around his legs. "He did what?"

"We couldn't get you on the radio, so we radioed through to DCI West. He told us to go after the other fella."

"You come to me, Simon," Gene said. "Not to him. Not to anyone else. Do you understand me?"

"You can't dictate who I talk to, PC Hunt, I'm a rank ahead of you!"

"Don't you think you were a little hard on him?" said a WDC lumbered with the paperwork of 'A' Division while the men ran it like Fred Karno's Army, nothing changed there much, since Gene was little in the 1970s as the men mostly made the women police officers regardless of uniform or plain clothes cop the flak.

"He potentially endangered the case and so 'ave your lot in 'A' Division."

"Oh, come on, PC Gene Hunt," she said, moving to stand just in front of him. "You're just annoyed he spoke to DCI West."

They turned to see DCI West standing in the doorway.

"Internal staff problem. Nothing to worry yerself about, Gaz."

"This is my station, Gene," the much older man said. "My office, in point of fact."

"You weren't in it," he said, moving past West and exiting the room.

"I can't be everywhere. I'm not young like you," Gaz said softly, speaking to himself.

Gene looked at her. "I've got half the GMP out lookin' fer 'im. Plus, Tremaine's going to be keeping his eyes glued to the street now I've 'ad a quiet word. Oh for Christ's sake!" He glared at the lift doors, the lift still having failed to arrive. When suddenly it turns out the lights in the corridor, never particularly illuminating, seemed to stutter and dim.

The lift stopped and Gene's eyes snapped open. "Right," he muttered as the lift doors opened. "Let's get this over with."

* * *

**What will happen next? Keep guessing until the next chapter.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: **_Gene's the Upcoming New CID officer._ **(Set in 1985, three years later) **

**PC Gene Hunt, no.6620 has been promoted out of uniform into a Detective Constable position aged 22 years old and he now has another brand new Ford on his hands, it was a two tone Ford Granada Mk3 and has a Nintendo NES to play with on one of the CID televisions. He even takes 12 year old Alex Price for a spin in his new car as she wants to be a police officer when older. **

* * *

"Tearing around London in a new bloody car and kicking down doors." remarked one of the ageing Greater Manchester Police 'A' Division police officers "Gene's just a brash know it all kid, a Detective Constable at only 22 years old." DCI West sneered remembering that day when Gene's CID colleagues visited with him, he was this young uniformed Police Constable who was on his first cold case about the deserted farm house in Lancashire from 1953 where a uniformed police officer was killed by his brother. "Gonna send a little message to 'im… teach young Mr 'unt a lesson 'e won't forget in a hurry."

Ray shook his head, taking a drag on his cigarette. "e didn't come to the darts match against B division one night."

"So, anyway," Ray said loudly, giving Chris a look which Annie pointedly ignored. "After we lost the match, me an' Chris went back to the station to raid the Guv's scotch an' 'e was there, packin' up his office. I asked 'im what the bloody 'ell was goin' on. Told us 'e was transferrin' down 'ere."

Flashback to 1982, when PC Gene Hunt first visited Greater Manchester Police with his older CID colleagues from London Metropolitan Police.

_You're just a teenage PC in plain clothes, Gene. The boy who investigated an old 1953 cold case about the Coronation since it's nearly 30 year old. _

_Rather be a PC in plain clothes than whatever the bloody 'ell you're supposed to be. But I can promise you that I will make sure you never set foot inside a police station again._

_Thing is Gene, you make yourself so visible for someone only 19, don't ya?_

_Hell, you're gonna 'ave to do that elsewhere. I catch wind of you anywhere near my officers and I will tie you to the rear bumper of my car and drive up the M1._

Gene stepped forwards, stopping just in front of Keats and towering over him as the other man continued to lean against the Ford Granada Mk2 Ghia X. _Firstly, get your arse off my car._

_But it doesn't make a blind bit o' difference to what I am . I'm a copper. And I'm a bloody good copper. I'll make sure that lot are bloody good coppers too. And don't you worry about the Gene Genie, Jimbo, 'cos I'll be sitting pretty in my police station, watchin' my little soldiers marchin' to the beat of my drum and I will weed out any rotten apples with before they can poison the whole bloody crop. __And I'll keep Bolly when she's a grown up lady as close to__ me._

_I don't bloody doubt it, Gene snapped. Now I want you to get into whatever shit heap of a car you used to get 'ere in London and drive away, back to Manchester, Jimbo. Now._

_ Gene was returning his gaze to Keats as the other man got into what looked like an extremely beaten up Volvo 343._

* * *

Gene Hunt was standing at this office window, "The newest game for his nes," replied Sharon Grainger who placed a new copy of _Super Mario Bros_ on the side of his desk for him, taking in the unruly state of his blonde hair. His broad shoulders were slumped slightly after having a good session on _Donkey Kong_ where Mario rescues Princess Peach, jumping over barrels, girdles or hammering fire flames against an angry brown ape.

"Sam Tyler once told me about his fourth birthday. His dad 'ad come 'ome-" DC Hunt stopped sobbing when he thinks about 1973 when he was ten and Sam aged four, completely stopping the story; DS Sharon Grainger asked what is the new car parked right outside the building was. She knew it belonged to the dashing, broad shouldered and tall 22 year old with that mullet hairstyle.

She stepped into the familiar room, moving slowly towards him. "Enjoying the view, Detective Constable? It's just the street."

"New car," he said, nodding towards a silver-blue Ford Granada Mk3 an early one on a rare C registration parked right outside the building. It has antilock brakes fitted as standard across the range "Every bloody time," Gene muttered. "What?" he grunted moodily.

"We've got a shout, Detective Constable."

"It's the middle of the bloody night. May've escaped your notice, DI Clarke, but we're not on duty and I'm a bit busy 'ere trying to beat my high score." Gene rolled his eyes and turned off his game. "Don't just stand there like a pillock, Clarke. Scum to catch. Get in, Inspector!" as he walks out to the waiting two tone Ford Granada Mk3.

The man had barely managed to shut the door when Gene screeched away from the station, swerving around the corner and into the night time streets of east London. Clarke was thrown clear across the backseat and struggled to right himself as the car hit three more corners in quick succession. He takes 12 year old Alex Price for a spin in his brand new Ford Granada Mk3 Ghia with the 2.9 engine.

"Don't ever apologize for my driving," Gene snapped. "Besides, got to show young Bolly here what the Ford Granny Ghia Mk3 can do, 'aven't I, Alex?"

She nodded when he glanced over. "So long as we get there in one piece," she said, smirking when she saw Gene roll his eyes.

"Unfortunately DI Clarke and my very good self were out at the time, leaving the goon squad to take her statement. Bastard!" This last was aimed at a black cab driver who'd stupidly believed the green light meant it was safe for him to cross an intersection. The Ford squealed to a stop outside what looked like an abandoned factory and Gene reached across Alex, pulling the glove box open and removing one gun.

"That's two bastards before nine AM, Gene Hunt. What are we going to do about that mouth of yours?" nagged the 12 year old brunette haired girl who would become his future colleague years later.

Clarke looked over at Alex, surprised to see a faint smile on her 12 year old face. "Something funny?" he asked.

As they moved through what had clearly been a canteen when the factory was fully operational.

"He came in first, Carlisle hit him with a serving tray, I think." Alex Price said.

But Gene had spotted the ambulance crew. "Oi! You lot. In 'ere. Man's been knocked out and this bastard's been shot."

"Do not take that as permission to take the Ford for a quick spin, you're ten years younger than me." He threw the keys across the roof of the car at her.

"Bolly, there you are." Gene was making himself a cup of tea in the kitchen, leaning against the cupboard with his long legs crossed at the ankle, waiting for the kettle to boil. "Fancy a brew?"

DC Gene Hunt drops Alex Price at her parents and godfather Evan White "I'm gonna get off 'ome. You get yourself to bed, Alex." as if he was a big brother to the young almost teenage girl who had three successful London lawyers at home, a pricey townhouse in the expensive district of London and a private education.

"I know you, Gene Hunt," she said softly, handing his keys back.

"Stop fussin', young woman! It's late and past your bedtime."

* * *

"Can think of a few things, Little Lady Bolls. Can think of a few uses for yours an' all." he growled, sliding his hands under the shirt as he kissed her.

"Never you mind. Come on," he got to his feet being careful to not reveal too much CID stuff to a 12 year old, pulling her upwards with him. "Get your arse in gear. Moira Allen's just turned up in CID. Wanna get there before Captain Concussion tries to question her."

"Who's on the team now?" Alex asked quietly, not wanting to bring it up but needing more information.

"That you know? Bammo's still 'ere. New DS – Martin Glenn and a new WDC – Sheena Sawyer. Our friendly CID plod is PC Harper, nice kid. You met Clarke." he checked his watch

"Crystal clear, Guv." calling Gene by his other nickname, despite being only 12 and 22 years old she responded brightly.

"Good girl, Pricey." He hesitated and for a moment, she thought he might kiss her, the idea sending shivers of remembered pleasure tingling down her spine. But he moved away, pushing through the doors of CID and barking out commands. "Right you are, Bossy-Knickers."

* * *

"Super's on the phone for you. Sorry." The young woman's eyebrows shot into her hairline, her face turning bright red with embarrassment.

"Oh, what does the Superintendent want now?" moaned DC Gene Hunt picking up the slim cord telephone receiver "Back to your desk, Sawyer, there's a good girl." When she caught up with him, he was already in full flow, pacing up and down in front of his office like a caged animal, glaring at each and every officer under his command in turn. She watched him a moment, rolling her eyes at the sheer number of mixed metaphors the man was able to cram into a sentence. "Nag. Nag. Bloody nag, he is."

Gene barely glanced at her as he wove the Ford through the lunchtime traffic, but she saw the concern in his eyes, heard it under the harsh tone of his voice.

"Raymondo's part of some squad up north combating football hooliganism. Shaz married Christopher. They've moved back to Manchester to be near 'is family. Shaz is a WDC now." explained DC Gene Hunt who wanted to show the new female Police Constable how things were done around Metropolitan Police CID, just like he had three years ago in 1982.

12 year old Alex Price sulked when DC Gene Hunt knew she had school the next day "m a big boy, Bolly. Can take care of meself. You, on the other 'and, look about ready to drop. Get some kip. Want that ridiculous brain of yours in tip top condition for school come the morning; otherwise your parents will be mad with me."

"Will you be back later, Gene Genie?" she asked, hating the need to ask the question.

He considered her for a moment, an unfathomable expression on his face, and then looked down at his boots. "It'll be a lot later on. Don't want to wake yer."

Gene rolled onto his side and slid an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. "Stop starin', Bolly. You'll 'ave me blushin'," he murmured into her hair, his voice rough with sleep. She turned so her back was pressed against his front, smirking as she heard him stifle a moan. "Time for school is it?" he asked, long fingers lightly skimming over her rib cage.

* * *

"_You want to act with a bit more respect, Mr Hunt_."

"_I__ find it 'ard to respect people 'oo drag me out in the middle of the night for nothin'. Little foible I 'ave._" Gene growled.

But the car wasn't Gene's Ford Granada Mk3 Ghia. It was a smaller, more nondescript vehicle. A man was standing with his back to the building, leaning into the driver's window. He straightened up, the car sped off, and Alex saw it was Liam Clarke.

Gene grabbed him, lifting him bodily by his collar and throwing him back against the chair. "She was sixteen years old," he growled, leaning down so his face was inches from Clarke's. "A child, few years younger than me. Somebody's daughter. And now she's dead. And I 'ave to go and find her parents and tell them their little girl's been murdered because one of my officers didn't bother to bring her in when she said she was scared for her life." He shoved Liam back against the chair and stepped back. "Get out of my sight, Inspector Clarke. I don't want to see you back 'ere today."

The calm tone he was using was completely at odds with the darkening of his eyes, the set of his mouth. But Liam didn't know did he? None of the team knew their young 22 year old Guv well enough to recognize the calm before the storm. "Not to mention he well known effects of a little Q and A with the Gene Genie. Why didn't you bring her in?"

Liam failed to stop in time and ended up with Gene towering over him. "To tell the truth, Detective Constable, I… didn't believe her."

"I don't care what he is," Gene snapped. "If I see him back in my station today I won't be held responsible for my actions." He turned and pushed through the doors to CID. "The twat in the green Escort."

He opened his door and glared at her. "Not 'appenin', Pricey. Get in." She heard the sound of a car coming down the street and watched as a familiar green Ford Escort pulled up outside the station and Liam Clarke climbed out. "Bolls, for once, just do as you're bloody told." the silver-blue she'd come to recognize on Gene's new two tone Ford Granada Mk3 "I quite like the blue," she said, sliding in to the passenger seat. "Same colour as your eyes."

Gene tapped his nose. "Trade secret Bolly. Can't 'ave you knowin' my every move. It'll destroy that air of mystery that makes you so hot under the collar." He turned his attention back to the radio. "Oi! Simple Simon. You got an address or am I supposed to take young Bolly 'ere on a sightseein' tour of bloody Shadwell?"

He stopped the car with a screech of burning rubber and got out.

"Is this it?" she asked, climbing out of the car and looking around. They'd stopped outside a rundown café in the midst of an industrial estate.

"Pot. Kettle. Black, Gene." He glanced down at her before returning his gaze to the street. "I'll do you a deal, Guv. You watch my arse and I'll watch yours." as Keats' car turned at the top of the road.

"You go on, Bolls. I've got keys. Gonna send that miserable lot 'ome and make sure that jumped up little prick doesn't double back." DC Gene Hunt sniggered in return giggling like a cool trendy schoolboy at 22 years old.

* * *

**The rebellious nearly teenager in a good way is 12 year old Alex Price who has a crush on 22 year old Detective Constable Gene Hunt, who doesn't let their ten year age gap stop them from fancying each other like mad.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12:** _The Strangeways Are Coming Home _**(Set in 1990 with a 27 year old DI Gene Hunt)**

**27 year old DI Gene Hunt meets Annie Cartwright who last saw him as a child and truth be, she is horribly tired since the former Woman's Detective Constable is one out of two left of the 1970s Greater Manchester Police CID team still active in the Police service. The others have been retired since Gene had risen through the ranks at his young age. He helps one of his father's old colleagues with the Strangeways Prison riots.**

* * *

_March 1990_

It hurts a little, coming back to Manchester, reminding a 27 year old Detective Inspector Gene Hunt of his childhood in the 1970s and early 80s, when he last visited. The Railway Arms is deserted after work, one of the signs that Stephen Hunt's era is dead and buried, and his father just a relic of the past wasting away behind a desk.

The door swings open behind him; Gene doesn't look to see who it is. "You been down at th' prison again?" he asks.

Annie slides into the chair across from him, looking weary and drawn. The years have taken their toll on her, too; her chestnut hair is streaked with grey, and there are lines at the corners of her eyes and lips. "You know they want as many officers as we can spare, and that includes CID."

They'd all been there when the riots had first broken out the previous day; now only a few hundred prisoners remained, but it was still the police's responsibility to guard the area.

Gene thinks, she needs it. "Th' media bein' their usual charmin' selves?" he asks wryly. "Like th' bloody prisoners aren't givin' us enough trouble as it is." He's grown used to the media becoming the overzealous watchdogs they are.

"They want a representative of the media to act as an independent observer, and to release a list of their demands." Annie shrugs wearily. "They have a point, Guv. The early reports from them don't half make it look a mess, and we all know it's been overcrowded for years."

"Y' think a single bloody one o' them thought about treatin' people right, Annie? 'Cos you've seen the crime scenes an' the stiffs, interviewed th' witnesses, talked t' th' grievin' families."

Ex DCI Stephen Hunt's world was a simple one, one that demanded an eye for an eye. Fortunately for Detective Inspector Gene Hunt, it's also one that's been left in the past for good reasons. Gene's old man became too old for these arguments. Stephen wonders when all the fire left him - life's worn him down over the years, life and a changing world that no longer has room for coppers like him.

"There's been riots at seven other prisons today and yesterday copying the Strangways riots, and that's only the tip of the iceberg."

"D'you know 'ow many of those blokes me old man put in there over th' years? Y' think that makes him responsible?"

Fuck, Gene's too young to even remember half the 1970s Greater Manchester Police's 'A' Division as he was only ten years old when he last saw them in 1973 and again when he graduated the police cadets in 1982 as a brand new uniformed Police Constable to help them with cases. Gene's been involved in an investigation the entire time he's been here; but also it's all been meetings and paperwork and rubbing elbows with Manchester's finest members of society at his tender age of 27 years old.

"I haven't got all the answers, Guv." Annie shrugs, almost apologetically, and takes another drink.

Annie's the only conscience that the old CID team have got left now, and she's a sweet thing. Tyler and Drake were like Gene on their way to becoming some of the finest police officers that the Nineties have ever seen.

Gene briefly rethinks his opinion of her as she gets him another glass of _Coco Cola_, quite pointedly, with another pint of Coke.

"You aren't goin' t' be able t' drive, love," he advises her. Gene can't help but grin at that.

Twenty years ago, Gene's father Stephen Hunt would've laughed if someone had told him Annie Cartwright would end up at the head of CID - of course, he'd always envisioned himself staying in the position for the rest of his career.

But time changes everything - Annie's been married and widowed and kept moving up through the ranks.

Gene's been to London and back, and everything he was familiar with as a 1970s-early 80s child is gone. Only two of his dad's former 'A' Division team are left.

* * *

**This surprises a 27 year old Detective Inspector Gene Hunt to meet the police woman that he last saw as a child being Detective Chief Inspector of Greater Manchester Police's CID in the year 1990.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13: **_A Shift in Strangeways Prison _**(Takes place in 1990 at Strangeways Prison, based on true events with a twist)**

**27 year old Detective Inspector Gene Hunt is asked to ****infiltrate a prison riot as Uniform are overwhelmed with the prisoners from D Wing have completely taken over Strangways from the prison chapel in the historic building which opened in 1868. Can he save a desk sergeant from the Strangeway prisons before it is too late?**

* * *

**_Disturbance in the chapel on the same day:_**

Prison officers had advance warning that an incident would occur in the chapel on 1st of April, and security was increased. Extra prison officers were used to escort prisoners to the service, and fourteen officers were inside the chapel supervising the service instead of the usual total of additional seven officers were also stationed in the vestry outside the chapel. The service was attended by 309 prisoners which was about the usual attendance, but all Rule 43 (A) prisoners were prevented from attending as a precautionary measure. A senior prison officer believed the prisoners would attempt another sit-down protest with the possibility of hostage-taking, and instructed staff to evacuate the chapel if trouble began. At approximately 11:00 am, a visiting Church of England preacher had just delivered the sermon, and the prison chaplain, Reverend Noel Proctor, stood to thank the preacher when prisoner Paul Taylor took the microphone from him and addressed the congregation. Reverend Proctor was recording the service for distribution to a prayer group, and the subsequent events were recorded.

* * *

**_1st April 1990_**

The riot begins on 1st of April 1990, when prisoners took control of the prison chapel which quickly spread to other wings; A, B, C and D. Convicted young offenders were housed separately from the centre in Wing E which is physically divided by gates from the main adult prison quarters. The population of the prison had peaked in the months leading to the riots.

_'Bricks and ordinance have been raining down for the past three hours.' 'We've seen inmates on the roof and peering out of broken windows' The monkeys have taken over the zoo. 'Took our roofer a fortnight to clear the same amount of tiles.'_

"Is that Strangeways?" asked 17 year old PC Alex Price watching the news footage of the Strangeways Prison riots on the Greater Manchester Police CID television set, possibly BBC News, ITV or Channel 4 News. It is an area of inner north Manchester, England just north of the city centre. It was also well known for making Boddingtons bitter which would close 15 years later from now and be demolished in 2007 after two years of being derelict.

_Noel Proctor: After that remarkable message that has..._

_Paul Taylor: I would like to say, right, that this man has just talked about blessing of the heart and a hardened heart can be delivered. No it cannot, not with resentment, anger and bitterness and hatred being instilled in people._

_{General noise on the scene of the riots}_

_A prisoner: Fuck your system, fuck your rules!_

_{Applause}_

_Noel Proctor: Right lads, sit down._

_{Noise from prisoners continues}_

_Noel Proctor: Right lads, down. Down. Come on, this is no way to carry on in God's house._

_{More noise}_

_A prisoner: Fuck your system._

{_More noise_}

_Noel Proctor: Right lads, sit down. This is completely out of order. Sit down._

_A prisoner: Why is it? It's been waiting to happen for ever. It will never change._

_Noel Proctor: Come on. This is terrible._

_{More noise, banging, shouting, cheering_}

_Noel Proctor: All of you who want to go back to your cells go the back of the church please._

_A prisoner: What? You're a fucking hypocrite, you._

_Noel Proctor: I'm trying to help you, to keep you._

_A prisoner: Leave it, mate._

_{More noise until microphone goes dead}_

"Uniform have got their tails up for this one." replied 27 year old DI Gene Hunt who had glass cut blue eyes, long shaggy blonde hair, wore a leather jacket, white t-shirt, jeans, a black gothic dream catcher necklace and red leather boots.

"Our concerns are for the whereabouts of a prisoner who legged it during all this bloody chaos." said DCI Harry Woolf.

"How did the riot start?" asked Police Constable Alex Price, being insightful as one the newest police women for her tender 17 years of age in Greater Manchester Police CID, although she was only in uniform.

"They took jellied eels off the menu." said one of the older plain clothed CID officers, probably either Geoffrey or Pat making their usual assumptions.

"Ten of them jumped a patrol at exercise. The guards reacted with the speed of a spastic tortoise. By which time the whole of D wing was let loose. D wing doesn't house juveniles, I take it?" asked DCI Harry Woolf.

"No. The scum de la scum." replied Detective Inspector Gene Hunt who knew Strangeways Prison had overcrowding problems and poor conditions for years which were brewing up to the riot. Early documented reports going up to the 1970s and early 1980s were sketchy, messy and unreliable at best. "The juveniles in E wing are thankfully not involved with the riots, otherwise they'd get destroyed by the dangerous characters at Strangeways."

The Prisoners League Association was established a year ago in 1989 which campaigned for prisoners' rights ts aims included initiating legal proceedings against prison staff for mistreatment of prisoners, and picketing outside prisons in which prisoners were mistreated. The PLA were active at Strangeways Prison, and Noonan's transfer demonstrates prison officers were aware of rising tensions inside the prison.

"I really need to have a word with you, Gene. See, there's something that, um," said 16 year old PC Chris Skelton babbling about a possible youth getting involved with the Strangeways Prison riots.

"Come on spit it out, Skip. You got a description, Chris?" asked DI Gene Hunt waiting for the younger boy's answer.

"- Yeah, he was white, five foot seven, slim build." Chris Skelton was one of the new Police Cadets at 16 years old, but Gene would eventually help him improve his arrest rate, overcome his nervous disposition and naivity.

* * *

_**Greater Manchester Police CID and Uniform at Strangeways Prison, 2nd April 1990 **__(police officers deployed inside)_

"Go, go, go! Move!" yelled DI Gene Hunt over the Motorola police walkie talkie, ordering all the uniformed and CID officers into action at HMP Strangeways Prison.

"Hunt's leading the charge, over."

"Moving forward approaching stairs, over."

"We're surrounded, over."

"They're overpowering us, retreat, all back! "I need medical assistance." said Police Constable Viv who is one of the youngest desk sergeants at Greater Manchester Police, on the Custody desk.

"We just walked into a bloody ambush!"

"Enjoy that, did ya? Feel good, did it? Do you feel free now?" sneered the other prisoners.

"Where's Viv?"

"Viv? Viv, are you receiving, over? Skip, where are ya?! -" panicked 27 year old Detective Inspector Gene Hunt, not getting any response frpm the desk sergeant Viv.

"We've been left a present. Let's have him up. - Come here. - Strip him down. -" sneered 54 year old Jason Sacks.

"There's a man still in there. Now whose covering for him? Rule number one, you never leave a man behind." said 21 year old DC Sam Tyler.

As Reverend Proctor was appealing for calm, a prisoner brandishing two sticks shouted out "You've heard enough, let's do it, get the bastards".

Other prisoners responded by donning masks and brandishing weapons, and three prison officers started to leave the chapel as earlier instructed.

A set of keys was taken from a prison officer when a number of officers were attacked by prisoners wielding fire extinguishers, table legs and fire buckets. A number of prisoners attempted to leave the chapel via the vestry; at the same time, the seven prison officers there attempted to gain entry to the chapel. Once they managed to do so, the officers were attacked by prisoners, and a second set of keys was taken from one of them. Some prisoners helped to get injured police officers and Reverend Proctor to a place of safety via the vestry; while others barricaded entrances to the chapel or attempted to gain access to the roof.

* * *

_**Meanwhile at Greater Manchester Police CID, 5th April 1990.**_

"We need to find out everything we possibly can about the prisoners holding Viv." instructed DCI Harry Woolf who is Gene Hunt's mentor and the latter has brought him up through the ranks since a boy of 19 years old way back in 1982 as a uniformed Police Constable.

"These are the D wing files, Ma'am. -" replied DI Gene Hunt blushing in front of a woman old enough to be his mother, his gorgeously handsome looks have every girl or woman swooning over him, no matter their age.

"Thank you, Gene. - Right, let's identify the ring leader. - His name's Jason Sacks." said DCI Annie Cartwright who rose through the ranks to become a Detective Chief Inspector in early 1990s Manchester.

"Police Constable Michael Stirling disturbed him trying to rob a garage in 1971. Sacks cut the tendons in his legs and burnt the place down. He was 23 years old at the time."

_Jason Sacks. 54. Electrician. Currently serving the 19th year of a life sentence._

"This tattoo he has on his face, he had that done just before his trial. As his tribute to the family."

"Right, we're going to set an incident room up in the prison. Governors have made a wardens office with CCTV available. We'll split operations between here and there. Viv is one of us. We won't let him down. Not on my watch. We're going to get him out of there. This is no time for a kick-around at the rec, my young Bolly." said Detective Inspector Gene Hunt who was briefing the CID team for the very first time.

Prisoners felt their complaints about conditions were being ignored. Remand prisoners were only allowed out of their cells for 18 hours per week, and Category A prisoners were locked in their cells for 22 hours for slopping out, which was a choice between a weekly shower or a one hour exercise period each day.

Prisoners then decided to stage a further protest in the chapel the following day, 1st April.

"There was an existing unit leader who had been fully briefed and you deposed him because, what, you fancied a punch-up, DS Ray Carling? You're nearly 50 you should know better being one of the more experienced CID officers." fumed DCI Harry Woolf at the Detective Sargeant smirking as he was reading a smutty magazine full of scantily clad girls that would almost fill Page 3 of _The Sun _newspaper.

"Right, we're going to set an incident room up in the prison. Governors have made a wardens office available. We'll split operations between here and there." instructed DCI Annie Cartwright, addressing the whole of CID in the main office.

"Viv is one of us. We won't let him down. Not on my watch. We're going to get him out of there." said Detective Inspector Gene Hunt who was well on his way to being one of the younger but coolest police officers, that Greater Manchester Police has ever seen in early Nineties Manchester "Is one copper enough to be a legend, Harry? What do you reckon? Cos I gotta be a legend and be on the fast track to DCI, like you've taught me."

"I think Gene blames himself for this as one of the CID's younger police officers, even though he tried his best to make sure Viv wasn't held hostage by the Strangeways prisoners; he, Alex Price, Chris Skelton, Sam Tyler and Annie Cartwright were the only officers who put in the effort at Strangeways by helping the prisoners protest peacefully."

"And Viv should be in front of that desk." said DCI Annie Cartwright noticing a black empty hole in the Custody suite, they had Phyllis Dobbs to fill in the gap temporarily.

"It was built to hold 500. There's nearly 2,000 in there. Four to a cell, 23 hour lock-ups, a bucket for a toilet."

"He has a cousin in C wing. Viv adores his cousin."

DI Gene Hunt recalls what Viv told him during the night his cousin got arrested "I had his mum on the phone for hours, all night, breaking her heart. He was a good kid. Cracking little footballer. West Ham were interested until he got nicked." Gene broke his voice at desk sargeant Viv's family connection to Strangeways Prison as he thought back to Viv's cousin's mum having a breakdown over the phone.

* * *

_**The riot spreads.**_ (_Damage caused to B wing of the prison and spreads to C, D, E and F after A wing is left unmanned)_

The prison officers guarding the gates outside the chapel abandoned them, and ran towards the Centre. The prison officer in charge of the Centre saw his colleagues running from the direction of the chapel, but due to the presence of scaffolding he was in a poor position to view the upper levels, and mistakenly assumed he saw prisoners running from the chapel. DCI Harry Woolf informed other uniformed and CID officers on C1 and D1 of this and, upon hearing that prisoners were in possession of keys, told them and officers on A1 that they should evacuate the prison via police radio.

Governor Morrison, who was responsible for the main prison, then ordered officers to evacuate the Centre at 11:13 am as he mistakenly believed prisoners had entered the Centre. By this time prisoners had gained access to the roofs of E and F wings, and from there gained access to other wings by making holes in derelict and unprotected office ceilings.

The prisoners found A and B wings unsupervised as the prison officers had already evacuated, and began to free other prisoners who were still locked in their cells. The prison officer in charge of the first landing of C wing was ordered to evacuate, and with the help of three other officers evacuated the 73 Rule 43(a) prisoners being held there, being fearful for the safety of the prisoners who were regarded as sex offenders.

Due to rioting prisoners entering the wing, the police officers were unable to evacuate a further seven Rule 43(a) prisoners who were being held on the second landing.

Rioting prisoners also gained access to E wing, where the Rule 43(a) prisoners had been left locked in their cells after the prison officers evacuated. number of these Rule 43(a) prisoners were attacked by rioting prisoners.

One such prisoner was Derek Whitney, who was being held on remand on charges of indecent assault and buggery. White later died in North Manchester General Hospital on 3rd April 1990 after being admitted suffering from head wounds, a dislocated shoulder and chest pains.

At 11:43 am rioting prisoners were seen approaching the remand prison, which was still secure.

The prison governor, Brendan O'Friel, arrived at the prison at 11:55 am and gave orders to defend the remand prison. He in later years recalls the memory of the 1990 Strangeways Prison Riots:

_By 12 o'clock when I came in it looked as if we'd lost control of the whole thing. My first decision was to send a Governor 5 back up to the remand prison to see if we could hold it, but it was too late. That decision, had it been taken half an hour earlier, would have meant we could have held the remand prison, meaning we could have kept another 400 locked up. Assuming the doors would have held, that sort of thing. But we had about 200 staff on duty, and we must have lost nine or ten casualties of one sort or another and then you lose staff getting the casualties out. We didn't have a lot of the staff come pouring in until about 1 o'clock. I tell you what really bugged us was there an element of April Fool about it. We rang staff up about it, who said "You must be joking, is this an April Fool?" That's what happened when they rang up my home, my son thought it was an April Fool._

Rioting prisoners gained access to the remand prison at 12:20 pm through the kitchens in G wing, and began freeing prisoners who were still locked in their cells using stolen keys or improvised tools such as iron bars and fire extinguishers.

At this point the rioting prisoners were in control of all accommodation wings of the prison. A large number of prisoners were on the prison roof, and roof tiles and other missiles were thrown at prison officers on the ground.

Rioting inside the prison continued with cells being damaged and fires being started, and at 3:40 pm the Public Relations Department of the Home Office issued a statement:

_At 11am a disturbance started in the chapel at Strangeways Prison when some 300 prisoners attacked staff. Those prisoners then gained access to the chapel roof and then broke into the living accommodation in the main prison. Other prisoners, including those on remand, joined in the disturbance and staff had to be withdrawn. The perimeter is secure by joint efforts from prison officers and the Greater Manchester Police Constabulary._

Between 2:00 pm and 5:00 pm approximately 800 prisoners had surrendered, and arrangements were made for them to be transferred to other prisons.

At 8:00 pm Governor O'Friel agreed that prison officers should enter E wing, and at 8:05 pm approximately ten Control & Restraint (C&R) units each consisting of twelve prison officers entered the wing. By 8:10 pm all four landings of E wing had been secured, and one C&R unit progressed to the Centre where they fought with rioting prisoners.

This was reported to Governor O'Friel, who instructed the prison officers not to move beyond E wing. Scaffolding poles and other missiles were thrown at the C&R teams from the roof area above the fourth landing in E wing, and when prisoners broke onto the wing the C&R teams withdrew at 0:22 am on 2 April, leaving prisoners in control of the wing. Up to 1,100 of the 1,647 prisoners were involved in the rioting, and by the end of the first day 700 had surrendered and been transferred to other prisons along with 400 prisoners who were not involved in the rioting. Between 200 and 350 prisoners occupied the rooftop of the main prison during the night.

At 7:00 am back on 2nd of April, an estimated total of 142 prisoners were still in control of all the accommodation wings of the prison. Some prisoners on the roof gave clenched fist salutes to the crowd watching below on the same day that Uniform and CID of Greater Manchester Police were deployed at Strangeways Prison.

Some prisoners were wearing prison officers' hats and uniforms, while others were wearing masks improvised from towels and blankets. A banner was unveiled that read "No dead", in response to claims in the press that between eleven and twenty prisoners had been killed in the rioting. At 10:00 am, C&R units entered the remand prison and regained control, with six prisoners surrendering peacefully.

Further prisoners surrendered the same day, and by 6:00 pm 114 prisoners remained in the prison.

On 3 April newspapers published pictures of the prisoners' "No dead" banner, while still insisting that 20 prisoners had been prisoners responded with a banner that read "Media contact now" The _Manchester Evening News_ newspaper was contacted from inside the prison by telephone, and prisoners outlined their demands.

Prisoners built barricades and threw scaffolding poles at the C&R units, and after approximately thirty minutes the C&R units withdrew without regaining control of the wing. By the end of the third day of the riot prisoners still controlled the upper levels of the prison, but prison officers had regained control of the lower level, and a Home Office statement was issued:

_During the course of the evening prison staff have had access at ground level to all wings in the main prison. No bodies have been found. Earlier today prison staff gained access to the main prison building in order to remove barricades to allow the surrender of inmates who wished to do so. No inmates were injured during this process. Nine prison staff were taken to outside hospital for treatment. Two remain overnight for observation. Negotiations were carried out by prison staff ... 31 inmates surrendered. All of those who surrendered have been interviewed, medically examined and fed. They will be transferred to other accommodation as soon as practicable._

On 4 April, Governor O'Friel spoke to the press for the first time, describing the riot as "an explosion of evil which was quite terrible to see". Also that day the Prison Officers Association claimed that Rule 43(a) prisoners were being treated in North Manchester General Hospital for castration wounds, which was repeated by sections of the press despite being categorically denied by the hospital's public relations officer and consultant-in-charge. 29 prisoners surrendered during the day leaving 26 prisoners inside the prison, 11 of whom had been identified by the Prison Service.

Also that day a prison officer died in hospital from pneumonia; he had not been injured during the riot and suffered from a long-standing medical condition. Two more prisoners surrendered on 5 April, the same day as the Home Office announced a public inquiry into the riot headed by Lord Weaver. By this time plans to retake the entire prison by force had been scrapped due to the likelihood of fatalities among prisoners or prison officers.

That evening the police and prison officers introduced new tactics designed to weaken the resolve of the prisoners and to prevent them from sleeping. Loud music was played, lights were shone at the roof, and prison officers banged on their riot shields and shouted at the prisoners, including calling them "beasts".

The rooftop protest was watched by a crowd of onlookers and supporters outside the prison. Various political groups also attended in support of the prisoners, including anarchist group Class War, the Revolutionary Communist Group, and the Prisoners' League Association. On 6 April Paul Taylor attempted to shout out the prisoners' demands to the crowd gathered below, but he was drowned out by police sirens. Taylor and other prisoners responded by unfurling a banner which read "We fight and stand firm on behalf of humanity". On 9 April, _The Sun_ newspaper called for an end to the riot, saying "Jail riot scum must be crushed", and former prisoner John McVicar called for the retaking of the prison by force at the earliest possible opportunity. By 10 April more prisoners had surrendered, leaving thirteen inside the prison. Three more prisoners surrendered the following day, one of whom, Barry Morton, had taken part in the rooftop protest on 26 March.

On 16 April, another three prisoners surrendered when they became ill with food poisoning. On 17 April the remaining seven prisoners began negotiations to attempt to bring the rooftop protest to an end. Negotiations took place inside the prison between two Home Office officials and prisoner Alan Lord, who was negotiating on behalf of the remaining prisoners.

* * *

_**Strangeways Prison, 23rd to 25th April 1990. **(Includes the aftermath of the rooftop protests)_

"We have this office while the prison wardens try and secure other wings; so we need to establish contact as soon as possible. -" F wing contained administrative offices with CCTV equipment on the lower floor.

"Did they make any demands while you were in there?"

"No. They were too busy heaving half the prison into our faces."

"Shaz, how many functioning lines are going into D wing?

"Three, Sir."

"I've been calling, but nothing. Any word on that escaped prisoner? - I'll put a call in." DI Gene Hunt moaned at no response from the prison Governers.

"What about kitchens or laundry? Try them. Maybe there's a prisoner who doesn't want to play."

"The CCTV is up and running, Gene."

"Listen up to me, you shit-sticks. This is DI Gene Hunt and I am now taking charge of D wing at her Majesty's pleasure."

"Don't Gene, your idea will aggravate the prisoners." warned DCI Annie Cartwright who was one of the more experienced CID police officers at Greater Manchester Police since the early 1970s when she was a Woman's Police Constable and Gene Hunt was just a little boy.

"It's playtime." remarked DI Gene Hunt "It's not entertainment like on the NES, Christopher."

A Home Office statement was released at 11:45 am stating that no bodies had been found in the remand prison, and 12 prison officers and 37 prisoners had received treatment in hospital to date.

Improved visiting facilities, including the right to physical contact with visitors and a children's play area. Category A prisoners would be allowed to wear their own clothes and be able to receive food parcels. Longer exercise periods. An end to 23-hour-a-day lock-up.

At 11:10 am Michael Unger from the _Manchester Evening News_ was allowed into the prison as an "independent observer". Unger met prisoners who described their grievances to him, which included mental and physical brutality, poor food and conditions, and misuse of drugs in controlling prisoners.

While Unger was inside the prison twelve C&R units attempted to regain control of E wing, in what became known as the "battle for E wing".

Local businesses were calling for an end to the riot due to the disruption caused, including the closure of roads around the prison. A leather-jacket retailer in the vicinity of the prison claimed to have lost £20,000 in revenue since the riot had begun.

Greater Manchester Police asked for £2 million to cover the costs of policing the riot, which it described as the "most savage incident of its kind ever experienced within the British prison service".

On 23 April, Lord was captured by a C&R unit while on his way to meet the negotiators. Mark Williams—one of the remaining prisoners—later described his reactions to the negotiations and Lord's capture.

_David Bell, the Home Office negotiator, kept contradicting himself, as if in a bid to prolong the negotiations. He would agree to our terms, then he would try and tell us it was out of his hands, and go back on his word. If it was out of the Home Officer's hands—then whose hands was it in? I think the final stages were messed around by the Home Office so that our protest could help to divert the public's attention from the Poll Tax revolt that was going on throughout the country. As Alan Lord was snatched after being asked to negotiate on behalf of us all, this made us all more defiant about ending the protest._

The newspaper was forced to publish a retraction admitting that "reliable police sources" had been mistaken, when it transpired that the former police officer imprisoned for rape was actually alive in HM Prison Leeds. It further found that press coverage "fell into the serious ethical error of presenting speculation and unconfirmed reports as fact".

In its last act before disbanding in 1991 and being replaced by the Press Complaints Commission, the Press Council produced a comprehensive report into the press coverage during the Strangeways riot.

_Initially, the riot appeared to increase public support for radical reform of the present degrading prison system. Some of that goodwill will have been eroded by the antics of the rioters in the last two weeks, and may be further eroded once details emerge during the forthcoming criminal prosecutions. But this must not deflect Home Office ministers from the road down which they had belatedly begun to travel. A change in prison conditions is crucial if good order is to be restored to the system. _

Thankfully Viv was saved from Jason Sacks, the rioting prisoners and got him out of Strangeways in time before it was too late, it is here that Detective Inspector Gene Hunt gets given some good advice by DCI Harry Woolf.

"If ever the police offer you the chance to move on from Detective Inspector, promote you to London and be your own man, don't baulk at it, Gene." advised DCI Harry Woolf.

"No, Guv." replied 27 year old DI Gene Hunt "I'll be a DCI by 34; you wait and see."

* * *

**_Greater Manchester Police, 11th June 1990 onwards_ **_(Takes place in the aftermath of the Strangeways Prison Riots when DI Gene Hunt and his mentor DCI Harry Woolf hold a public enquiry over five months and ending in London on 31 October)._

"You chaired a number of meetings between prisoners reps and the authorities?" asked the Manchester Evening News Reporter asking Gene's mentor a question relating to the Strangeways Prison riots as the second Detective Chief Inspector in Greater Manchester Police apart from Annie Cartwright.

"I sat in on some sessions. And the prisoners were being kept in poor conditions, being beaten or drugged by officers; locked up for hours with no facilities."

The prison was open to male and female prisoners until 1963 when the facility became male-only, and in 1980 it began to accept remand prisoners. As of 2005 the prison held more than 1,200 inmates.

DI Gene Hunt and DCI Harry Woolf described the conditions inside Strangeways in the months leading up to the riot as "intolerable", and viewed a "combination of errors" by staff and management at the prison and Prison Service as a central contributing factor to the riot. He also blamed the failure of successive governments to "provide the resources to the Prison Service which were needed to enable the Service to provide for an increased prison population in a humane manner.

DCI Harry Woolf recommended major reform of the Prison Service, and made 12 key recommendations with 204 accompanying proposals:

_Closer cooperation between the different parts of the Criminal Justice System. For this purpose a national forum and local committees should be established. More visible leadership of the Prison Service by a Director General who is and is seen to be the operational head and in day to day charge of the Service. To achieve this there should be a published "compact" or "contract" given by Ministers to the Director General of the Prison Service, who should be responsible for the performance of that "contract" and publicly answerable for the day-to-day operations of the Prison Service. Increased delegation of responsibility to Governors of establishments. An enhanced role for prison officers. A "compact" or "contract" for each prisoner setting out the prisoner's expectations and responsibilities in the prison in which he or she is held A national system of Accredited Standards, with which, in time, each prison establishment would be required to comply. A new Prison Rule that no establishment should hold more prisoners than is provided for in its certified normal level of accommodation, with provisions for Parliament to be informed if exceptionally there is to be a material departure from that rule. A public commitment from Ministers setting a timetable to provide access to sanitation for all inmates at the earliest practical date, not later than February 1996. Better prospects for prisoners to maintain their links with families and the community through more visits and home leaves and through being located in community prisons as near to their homes as possible. A division of prison establishments into small and more manageable and secure units. A separate statement of purpose, separate conditions and generally a lower security categorisation for remand prisoners. Improved standards of justice within prisons involving the giving of reasons to a prisoner for any decision which materially and adversely affects him; a grievance procedure and disciplinary proceedings which ensure that the Governor deals with most matters under his present powers; relieving Boards of Visitors of their adjudicatory role; and providing for final access to an independent Complaints Adjudicator._

Home Secretary Kenneth Baker welcomed DCI Harry Woolf's report into the Strangeways Prison with press and pledged to end "slopping out" by 1994, and also accepted Woolf's recommendations for more visits, home leave and telephone calls.

Baker also proposed the introduction of a new offence of "prison mutiny" carrying a maximum sentence of ten years imprisonment, stating "The events of last April marked a watershed in the history of prison service. We cannot, and will not, tolerate the savagery and vandalism in our prisons that we saw then."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14: **_Post Strangeways _**(Takes place in 1992, 1993 and 1994 with Gene Hunt now in his late 20s up to age 30 in 1993-1994)**

**The first prosecutions for the Strangeways prison riots are taking place. Strangeways has been modernised and rebuilt after the riots as HMP Manchester. DI Gene Hunt was one of the police officers drafted into Strangeways during the riots and the court considers him and some of the officers as heroes; as it took decades for change and modernisation of the Her Majesty's Prison Service to be joined with the justice system. (Gene Hunt is aged 30 somewhere in 1993-1994 similar to Philip Glenister's age at the time).**

* * *

DCI Harry Woolf's report into the Strangeways riot was published on 25 February 1991, a year ago and blamed the loss of control of the prison on the prison officers abandoning the gates outside the chapel, which "effectively handed the prison to the prisoners." 1,300 prisoners and 430 prison officers responded, with many excerpts from the letters being appended to his finished report. Much of the old prison was damaged or destroyed in the rioting. Several inmates were going to be charged with various offences, and Paul Tyler and Alan L faced a five-month trial as ringleaders. Earlier in that year where he described prisoners being kept in intolerable conditions–as bad as at the time of the riots. DCI Woolf recommended prisons were kept out of politics.

Sam and Gene, with the other CID and Uniform officers drafted into Strangeways during 1990 in a courthouse, are leaning over the banisters, looking down at the room below them.

The court bell rings and both turn around.

The first prosecutions in relation to the riot began at Manchester Crown Court on 14 January 1992. The trial was conducted amid tight security, including armed police patrolling the area around the court, body searches for spectators and a specially constructed dock with sides made from bulletproof glass. Nine men went on trial charged with riot under Section 1 of the Public Order Act 1986, with six of them, including Paul Tyler and Alan L, also being charged with the murder of Derek Whitney.

"Court number one is now in session. The Strangeways Prison rioters." said a male wearing a wig and red gown.

In the courtroom. It seems quiet.

"I swear by Almighty God that the evidence I shall give shall be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth." said a now 28 year old Gene Hunt who recites the oath well in front of the court's audience at Manchester Crown Court.

"Good morning, Detective Inspector Eugene Hunt; can you confirm that what you witnessed was a complaint about the decades of poor conditions at Strangeways Prison?"

"Yes, I was one of the police officers involved in setting up a CCTV control room in F-wing which was set up to get contact with the prison Guvs as the system Strangeways had was ancient and very unreliable with dated rotary telephones, an old switchboard, no proper fire extingishers, just these rusting red metal buckets and no CCTV overlooking the vital areas of the prisons, since visability was poor due to piping around nearly every wall before my two DCIs and colleagues requested a CCTV office."

Gene glares around the court. There is a murmur in the court.

"Some prison officers were clearly too old to be screws and Guvs, which is why Mr. Whitney died from a pre existing heart failure. 147 staff and 47 prisoners were injured with 1 killed; I knew when we first got the Strangeways prison riots case, most had been working there for decades. Some of the inmates had learning difficulties, mental health issues and were illiterate with little mathematical skill; my Guv Harry Woolf gathered that when we were involved in press sessions with his report; speaking to the inmates families and relatives. Viv had family involvement - a beloved cousin of his banged up in Strangeways who should have been a cracking little footballer playing for West Ham, it upset me considerably when I had his cousin's mum on the phone breaking and pouring her heart out to me."

"Thank you, Detective Inspector Eugene Hunt." said the female judge. "You were one of the heroes involved with the case, I'm sure you'll make DCI in no time and at such a tender age too."

"These inmates are the tragic cases of a broken system failing their educational outcomes probably since their schooldays. It is no excuse for leaving their reading, writing, maths, computing, Physical Education and practical skills neglected." replied DI Gene Hunt who was a idealist ever since his brother Stuart got in with the wrong crowd.

On the first day one prisoner pleaded guilty to charges of riot and conspiracy to riot, and was also acquitted of the murder charge. The other defendants were also acquitted of murder due to the unreliability of eyewitness testimony and the possibility that Whitney had died from a pre-existing thrombotic condition. On 16 April 1992, four defendants including Paul Tyler were convicted of rioting, and the remaining four including Alan L were acquitted.

Tyler received a ten-year sentence, the maximum sentence the judge had the power to impose. The sentences received by the other defendants ranged from four years to nine-and-a-half years imprisonment.

"Do you find the defendants guilty or not guilty of prison mutiany intent to riot and grevious bodily harm?"

"Yes," said the jury foreperson "But the rioters involved, do have a point as the prison service was chronically underfunded for decades."

By the end of the first trial the total cost of the Strangeways riot, including refurbishing the prison and the costs of the police inquiry and court case, had reached £112 million.

The second trial began at the same court on 5 October 1992, and dealt with charges relating to the "battle for E wing" on 3 April 1990.

There were fourteen defendants, including Alan L and another man who was acquitted in the first trial, both of whom were added to the list of defendants after their acquittals.

Two defendants pleaded guilty to violent disorder and received four- and five-year sentences, which due to the two years they had spent on remand awaiting trial resulted in them being freed.

Not gulity." said the jury as the remaining twelve defendants pleaded not guilty to conspiracy to commit grievous bodily harm with intent and conspiracy to riot.

On 7 December 1992 David Bowene and Mark Azzo escaped from the prison van transferring them from HM Prison Hull to the court. Azzo was recaptured, before escaping from the court on 17 February 1993 along with five of the other defendants.

At the conclusion of the trial two defendants were acquitted and the remainder found guilty of conspiracy to commit grievous bodily harm with intent, the lesser charge of conspiracy to riot automatically being dropped when guilty verdicts were announced on the first charge. When passing sentence, the judge remarked "You had your period of arrogance and violence in front of the world, but now the price must be paid and paid by you."

The defendants received sentences ranging from four years to ten years imprisonment, although only five defendants were in court to hear the verdict as six defendants were still on the run after escaping and another was being treated at Ashworth Secure Hospital.

The Crown Prosecution Service accepted plea bargains where defendants pleaded guilty to violent disorder in exchange for the dropping of other charges, or in some cases all charges were dropped completely.

* * *

Following the second trial in 1993, a further 26 defendants were still due to be tried on charges relating to the riot. On 20th September 1993 the last remaining defendant to maintain a plea of not guilty went on trial, and he was convicted of conspiracy to commit grievous bodily harm and sentenced to thirty months imprisonment.

On 18 March 1994, six prisoners appeared in court on charges of escaping from custody during the second riot trial. Five of them pleaded guilty to escaping from custody on one occasion, and Mark Azzo pleaded guilty to escaping on two occasions. In July 1994, David Bowene was convicted of attempting to pervert the course of justice by attempting to influence the jury in the first riot trial, and was sentenced to three years imprisonment.

Paul Taylor, who had already pleaded guilty to the same charge, also received a three-year sentence.

* * *

Strangeways was rebuilt and refurbished at a cost of £55 million, and was officially re-opened as HM Prison Manchester on 27 May 1994.

The press were invited to view the new prison and talk to the prisoners by new governor Derek Lewis. A prisoner told the visiting journalists:

_The better conditions in here are not down to the prison department. But if it wasn't for the riot, we would still be in the same old jail banged up all day and slopping out ... The rioters brought this about. These conditions ... should not have cost the lives of a prisoner, a prison officer and two huge court trials. They should have done it years ago but it took a riot to get them to do it._

Up until now in 1994, prisoners were made to use chemical toilets due to the difficulty of installing modern plumbing in the Strangeways prison's granite structure.

The riots resulted in the Woolf Inquiry, and the prison was rebuilt and renamed Her Majesty's Prison, Manchester. Repair and modernisation cost more than £80 million after the riot, and rebuilding was completed now in 1994.

Education and vocational training is provided by the Manchester College. Courses offered include information technology, ESOL, numeracy, industrial cleaning, bricklaying, painting and decorating, plastering, textiles and laundry. The prison's gym runs courses in physical education and offers recreational sport and fitness programmes.

A report by the Independent Monitoring Board described Manchester Prison as squalid, vermin infested and reminiscent of Dickensian England. The report added that the prison urgently needed modernisation and assaults on staff have risen due to staff shortages.


End file.
